Just because there isn't bus service to your home doesn't mean you can't arrive at work by bus.
This morning brought another conversation about driving, parking, costs, buses, and the possibility that transit and driving could be combined to save some money. It doesn't really matter what the details of the situation were today, because the conversation followed a familiar path. I've has variations on the same conversation dozens of times. This particular one occurred as a woman was trying to renew her parking permit on the UW campus.
Woman complaining about parking costs: It's so expensive. Parking should be free. Nobody else charges employees to park!
Me: [After pointing out that the UW Transportation Services gets no state funding, and has to somehow raise revenue to provide the parking she wishes were free. And that actually, many places charge for parking. Some employers in Madison don't provide any options other than parking in the public ramps, so that costs way more than the spots at UW.] Why don't you take the bus? Then you wouldn't have to pay for parking at all?
Woman: I live in [outlying community about 20 miles away], so I can't take the bus.
Me: Well, you could drive into an area in Madison with good bus service, and then take the bus from there. Just park on the street. Lot's of people do it. No cost for the parking, and then the UW provides the bus pass for you as well.
Woman: It takes too long.
Me: Actually, it's only about fifteen minutes from Hilldale. There are a bunch of buses that go from there right to the campus.
Woman: Well, what if my kids get sick? I have to have my car.
Me: The UW provides an emergency ride home. If your kids get sick, you can take get a ride to where you parked the car, and then drive from there.
Woman: I wish they told us that.
Me: They do. They send out an email every semester to all employees outlining the options other than driving alone and parking.
Woman: Well, I didn't see it.
Me: OK, well, now you know. It's just one option to save some money.
It doesn't matter what community this woman lives in, or whether she works at the UW or somewhere else, except that the UW has done an excellent job of providing information to all employees on how to get to and from work without driving. This woman gets all sorts of emails on this subject, and probably has seen posters at her office, received mailings, and even heard people talk about the bus pass program, but she rejected it for two reasons:
1. She knows there's no bus in her community, so she assumes that a bus is not an option for arriving at work, never considering the possibility that she could take the bus part way and avoid that pesky parking fee.
2. She's never taken a bus in her life, and it scares her to think about taking a bus.
OK, I'm speculating on that second point. But Madison is just small enough that there are a lot of people that still view buses as for poor people, brown people [oh, the horrors!], students, and crazy environmentalists. Buses are urban things, and she lives in a rural community. She wouldn't have the first idea how to find the correct bus, and she has no intention of finding out how to use the system.
So she'll continue to complain about the cost of parking. But maybe, just maybe, one day she will try riding the bus, just to prove that it won't work for her, and she'll find out it's actually pretty easy. Then she'll think about all the money she could save by giving up her parking spot, or getting flex parking, and maybe another multimodal commuter will be born.
And by the way, the City of Madison can also help you find ways to avoid driving (and parking) every day. So you don't have to be a UW employee to get that emergency ride home. But if you happen to be a UW employee, and don't already know about the services they provide, check out the Commuter Solutions page. It's great information for anyone in Madison.
Showing posts with label UW. Show all posts
Showing posts with label UW. Show all posts
Monday, January 23, 2012
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Snowshoe walk to Arboretum springs
One of my favorite places to go on a short walk in winter is down to the springs along Lake Wingra. Although you can ski to the springs, it is more direct to go by snowshoe, or just hike with sturdy boots. If you start in the parking lot on the north side of Arboretum Drive, just east of the Visitors Center, you can walk down the hill through the woods. If you want to ski, you have to go around the long way, because the Arb doesn't want people skiing down the slope. Besides, it's pretty steep and twisty for XC skis!
I am always amazed how well-worn the paths are in the middle of winter. Even though we got over 18 inches of snow just a few days ago, the path can easily be walked in boots. It is cut about 9 inches into the surrounding area, with the base well packed down.
The Big Spring is a large area of open water all winter that is filled with water birds in even the harshest conditions. If there are still berries on the trees, or during late fall and early spring migrations, you can also see and hear small birds flitting through the brush along the Big Spring.
Father down the path, you come to a stream flowing out of the hillside and towards the lake. Amid the white, black, grey, and spots of brown that are the winter palette, the springs show a bright green in the snow. Although it looks sort of like pond scum, this is actually watercress.
This is why I love this walk. The green in the middle of the winter reminds me that life continues, even in the deep snow. There is copious water coming from these springs, and no matter how harsh the weather, the streams flow and support the plants. Here are some notes from a walk by an Arboretum naturalist that had some similar thoughts in December.
In the summer, the walk to this area is along a boardwalk through a wetland. As explained in this set of notes from another naturalist led walk back in 2007, this is a fen, a wetland that has a more basic water and soil than many of the bogs of northern Wisconsin.
Not being a morning person, my walks often start in the afternoon, and by the time I am ready to head back home, the light is often low. I always think that my photos are going to be too dark, and Saturday I even forgot my camera and had to use my cell phone. But the cameras on cell phones have gotten much better, and I was actually quite pleased with how some photos of the spring came out in the low light.
The image to the right is a bit farther into the wetland. I don't think you wouldn't be able to access this area during the summer, although the boardwalk may continue this far. After this, I tried to follow a small trail worn into the snow, but I think it might have been made by some of the UW researchers that work in the Arb, because it got very tangled up in the brush after a few hundred yards. I turned back, realizing that I'd probably end up out on Nakoma or Monroe St, if I kept going - if I got that far.
In the fresh snow, red blood stains where an animal ate a squirrel stood out. At first I thought it would have been an owl, but after seeing a couple locations, all deep in the underbrush, I decided it was more likely another mammal that finished off these squirrels. Maybe a fox? The pictures didn't really come out well, so I didn't include them.
As I climbed back up the hill, away from the lake and into the woods, the patterns created by the drifting snow caught my eye. There were circular depressions where the snow had drifted around the trees, and little mounds, like goosebumps, where bits of brush and twigs had accumulated more snow.
Even though the deeply worn trails multiple tracks show that many others have come before me, I always feel that this walk is a little secret of mine. While the prairie woods near the visitors center are popular place to ski or hike, you sort of have to know that the springs are down the steep hill. Most people don't go looking for open water and green plants in the depths of winter, especially after the amount of snow that came our way last week. But the Arboretum always shows its gems to those that are willing to explore.
I am always amazed how well-worn the paths are in the middle of winter. Even though we got over 18 inches of snow just a few days ago, the path can easily be walked in boots. It is cut about 9 inches into the surrounding area, with the base well packed down.
The Big Spring is a large area of open water all winter that is filled with water birds in even the harshest conditions. If there are still berries on the trees, or during late fall and early spring migrations, you can also see and hear small birds flitting through the brush along the Big Spring.Father down the path, you come to a stream flowing out of the hillside and towards the lake. Amid the white, black, grey, and spots of brown that are the winter palette, the springs show a bright green in the snow. Although it looks sort of like pond scum, this is actually watercress.
This is why I love this walk. The green in the middle of the winter reminds me that life continues, even in the deep snow. There is copious water coming from these springs, and no matter how harsh the weather, the streams flow and support the plants. Here are some notes from a walk by an Arboretum naturalist that had some similar thoughts in December.
In the summer, the walk to this area is along a boardwalk through a wetland. As explained in this set of notes from another naturalist led walk back in 2007, this is a fen, a wetland that has a more basic water and soil than many of the bogs of northern Wisconsin.Not being a morning person, my walks often start in the afternoon, and by the time I am ready to head back home, the light is often low. I always think that my photos are going to be too dark, and Saturday I even forgot my camera and had to use my cell phone. But the cameras on cell phones have gotten much better, and I was actually quite pleased with how some photos of the spring came out in the low light.
The image to the right is a bit farther into the wetland. I don't think you wouldn't be able to access this area during the summer, although the boardwalk may continue this far. After this, I tried to follow a small trail worn into the snow, but I think it might have been made by some of the UW researchers that work in the Arb, because it got very tangled up in the brush after a few hundred yards. I turned back, realizing that I'd probably end up out on Nakoma or Monroe St, if I kept going - if I got that far.
In the fresh snow, red blood stains where an animal ate a squirrel stood out. At first I thought it would have been an owl, but after seeing a couple locations, all deep in the underbrush, I decided it was more likely another mammal that finished off these squirrels. Maybe a fox? The pictures didn't really come out well, so I didn't include them.
As I climbed back up the hill, away from the lake and into the woods, the patterns created by the drifting snow caught my eye. There were circular depressions where the snow had drifted around the trees, and little mounds, like goosebumps, where bits of brush and twigs had accumulated more snow.
Even though the deeply worn trails multiple tracks show that many others have come before me, I always feel that this walk is a little secret of mine. While the prairie woods near the visitors center are popular place to ski or hike, you sort of have to know that the springs are down the steep hill. Most people don't go looking for open water and green plants in the depths of winter, especially after the amount of snow that came our way last week. But the Arboretum always shows its gems to those that are willing to explore.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Walker kills biomass at Charter St plant: Again penny wise and pound foolish
Too bad that saying is using British currency, because "penny wise and dollar foolish" just doesn't sound quite as catchy. But the wisdom behind it is still the same. You can save a little money now, but find out that your savings are short lived, and you end up spending more money over the longer term.
Yesterday's announcement that our new Governor is finally killing the biomass boilers on the new Charter Street heating plant is just this kind of thinking. He's crowing about saving the Wisconsin taxpayers $100 million by not including the option to burn biomass, as well as natural gas. But heating plants last many decades, and we don't know what the price of natural gas will be in 2020, 2030, or 2050. We are passing up a chance to build a heating plant that could switch its fuel based on the prevailing price, and the fuel could come from right here in Wisconsin, instead of far away via a pipeline.
This power plant will sit on the University campus, a campus that is in the forefront of research on biofuels of all kinds. We are an agricultural state with lots and lots of biomass of all kinds, including waste from agricultural products, street and highway brush cuttings, waste from lumber and paper production, and naturally occurring plants that need virtually no fertilizer, irrigation, or cultivation. Wisconsin is in an ideal situation to both produce biomass and do the research to make sure that the plant is both energy and economically efficient and sustainable.
(How ironic that the Wisconsin Bioenergy Institute announced a grant program the day before Walker pulled the plug on a coal to biomass conversion on the UW campus. The grant they announced seeks a small, older coal or oil-fired facility in northern Wisconsin that could be converted to biomass.)
But that's all gone now. No jobs producing biomass. No home-town heating plant to test the efficiencies. No flexibility in fuel source, should natural gas prices soar. Less fuel security from a local source. All that design work down the tubes.
This seems to be the hallmark of the new Walker administration: It doesn't matter that a project has been planned, designed, voted on, budgeted, and started, we need to kill it if it will save a few dollars next year. it doesn't matter that this project will create jobs here in Wisconsin, if the left likes it, or it benefits Democratic strongholds like Madison and Milwaukee, kill it. Even if the project will possibly save billions of dollars in the next thirty years, we can't afford it now.
This is the sort of thinking that has gotten corporate American into so much trouble: Think only of the next quarter and the dividends of the investors next year. Forgot long term investment that may pay off in ten years, leave those to the Europeans and Asians. We can always play catch-up.
Intercity trains. Biomass heating plants. What's next?
I've been thinking of an analogy that individuals might understand, a decision they might make to save a little money now, but that will mean possibly decades of lost money down the road. Not too many things we purchase can't be changed, sold, or upgraded. If a pair of shoes falls apart, because we saved a little money, well, we are out the price of the shoes. We all know that buying the cheap brand isn't always a bargain.
But as I sit at home, on this frigid morning, in my drafty 1922 house (which I generally love), I think I found the right analogy. I replaced my old, wooden storm and screen windows about 15 years ago. I was tired of climbing up on the ladder each spring and fall to physically change the heavy outer windows. The screens were ripped on some of the frames, and it all seemed too much trouble. I replaced them with new, combination storm/screens, ones that I could slide up and down from the comfort of my house. But I didn't get the really energy efficient, double pane, expensive windows, because I was tight on money. Natural gas was cheap, and I have lived in drafty houses my whole life. "No big deal," I thought, "How bad could it be?"
Pretty bad. Now, because of my decision to save maybe $1000-$1500 on the whole house, my heating bills are hundreds of dollars more each year, and the cost of replacing those windows has skyrocketed by thousands of dollars. But I could actually still replace the windows.
Now imagine building a whole house that is drafty and poorly insulated from the start. Sure, it would be cheaper, but those heating bills would eat up your savings pretty fast. And your heating fuel might get even more expensive. Then you'd be faced with continuing high heating bills, or going back to do an expensive fix, like adding insulation and new windows. Wouldn't it be better to build it right the first time?
Penny wise, and pound foolish, Governor Walker. I hope the people of Wisconsin remember who killed the train and the flex-fuel heating plant. We'll have a new governor by then, but your decisions will be a burden on us for decades.
Yesterday's announcement that our new Governor is finally killing the biomass boilers on the new Charter Street heating plant is just this kind of thinking. He's crowing about saving the Wisconsin taxpayers $100 million by not including the option to burn biomass, as well as natural gas. But heating plants last many decades, and we don't know what the price of natural gas will be in 2020, 2030, or 2050. We are passing up a chance to build a heating plant that could switch its fuel based on the prevailing price, and the fuel could come from right here in Wisconsin, instead of far away via a pipeline.
This power plant will sit on the University campus, a campus that is in the forefront of research on biofuels of all kinds. We are an agricultural state with lots and lots of biomass of all kinds, including waste from agricultural products, street and highway brush cuttings, waste from lumber and paper production, and naturally occurring plants that need virtually no fertilizer, irrigation, or cultivation. Wisconsin is in an ideal situation to both produce biomass and do the research to make sure that the plant is both energy and economically efficient and sustainable.
(How ironic that the Wisconsin Bioenergy Institute announced a grant program the day before Walker pulled the plug on a coal to biomass conversion on the UW campus. The grant they announced seeks a small, older coal or oil-fired facility in northern Wisconsin that could be converted to biomass.)
But that's all gone now. No jobs producing biomass. No home-town heating plant to test the efficiencies. No flexibility in fuel source, should natural gas prices soar. Less fuel security from a local source. All that design work down the tubes.
This seems to be the hallmark of the new Walker administration: It doesn't matter that a project has been planned, designed, voted on, budgeted, and started, we need to kill it if it will save a few dollars next year. it doesn't matter that this project will create jobs here in Wisconsin, if the left likes it, or it benefits Democratic strongholds like Madison and Milwaukee, kill it. Even if the project will possibly save billions of dollars in the next thirty years, we can't afford it now.
This is the sort of thinking that has gotten corporate American into so much trouble: Think only of the next quarter and the dividends of the investors next year. Forgot long term investment that may pay off in ten years, leave those to the Europeans and Asians. We can always play catch-up.
Intercity trains. Biomass heating plants. What's next?
I've been thinking of an analogy that individuals might understand, a decision they might make to save a little money now, but that will mean possibly decades of lost money down the road. Not too many things we purchase can't be changed, sold, or upgraded. If a pair of shoes falls apart, because we saved a little money, well, we are out the price of the shoes. We all know that buying the cheap brand isn't always a bargain.
But as I sit at home, on this frigid morning, in my drafty 1922 house (which I generally love), I think I found the right analogy. I replaced my old, wooden storm and screen windows about 15 years ago. I was tired of climbing up on the ladder each spring and fall to physically change the heavy outer windows. The screens were ripped on some of the frames, and it all seemed too much trouble. I replaced them with new, combination storm/screens, ones that I could slide up and down from the comfort of my house. But I didn't get the really energy efficient, double pane, expensive windows, because I was tight on money. Natural gas was cheap, and I have lived in drafty houses my whole life. "No big deal," I thought, "How bad could it be?"
Pretty bad. Now, because of my decision to save maybe $1000-$1500 on the whole house, my heating bills are hundreds of dollars more each year, and the cost of replacing those windows has skyrocketed by thousands of dollars. But I could actually still replace the windows.
Now imagine building a whole house that is drafty and poorly insulated from the start. Sure, it would be cheaper, but those heating bills would eat up your savings pretty fast. And your heating fuel might get even more expensive. Then you'd be faced with continuing high heating bills, or going back to do an expensive fix, like adding insulation and new windows. Wouldn't it be better to build it right the first time?
Penny wise, and pound foolish, Governor Walker. I hope the people of Wisconsin remember who killed the train and the flex-fuel heating plant. We'll have a new governor by then, but your decisions will be a burden on us for decades.
Monday, January 17, 2011
A winter Sunday in the Arboretum
One of the great joys about living in Madison is the opportunity to get outside and enjoy nature, year round, even if you live in the heart of the city. One way to do that is to visit the UW Arboretum. Every Sunday there are two nature walks, one for adults, and one for families (that is, kid-friendly.) They may take off a Sunday around Thanksgiving or Christmas, but other than that, they run them in all weather and seasons.*
The last walk I went on was a couple two Sundays ago, and it was sunny with calm winds, so despite the temperature in the 20s, it was quite enjoyable to be outside. These walks give me a reason to get my butt out of the house on a wintery Sunday, when it is far too easy to hang around indoors all day. If there is snow, I'm eager to XC ski or snowshoe, but when there's no fresh snow, it's nice to have someone willing to lead a walk.
The topics of these walks vary quite a bit. Some that I have attended were focused on glacial features, prairie plants, spring ephemerals, Indian mounds, fungi and mushrooms, fall prairie plants, and wetland environments. Some of the naturalists are experts on birds, others on plants, and others on insects, but all have a wide variety of interests and knowledge, and they try to answer questions as best they can. The people going along on the hikes often can answer the questions as well, since these hikes tend to attract people generally interested in the natural environment.
The most recent hike was much less focused on a particular topic, and we went only a short distance to Longnecker Gardens to generally check out winter conditions. We looked at some animal tracks, talked about the birds and animals that can be seen in winter, and kept an eye out for anything else that happened or came by. Winter is a great time to get to know trees by their shape, since most are bare of leaves and it is very easy to see the branch structure. Unless you are used to looking at trees, you tend to think of evergreens as conical, and other trees as having a straight, thick trunk branches splitting off and getting smaller as you go up. We sort of think of a tree as being a stick with a fluffy crown of leaves. That's how kids draw trees, right?
But from across an open area like Longnecker Woods, and without the leaves, you can see the structure of the trees, and see how some are tall and skinny, others a more chaotic jumble of branch sizes, and still others having multiple trunks coming from the ground.
You can also see the birds and animals in the trees much more easily. Red tail hawks are very common in the Arb, and they love to hunt the snowy areas with only scattered trees. Twice we say a hawk swoop down from a tall tree along the edge of the gardens, but we didn't see wither one catch anything. It also seems to be easier to hear the bird calls, since there is less ambient noise in winter, and the sound isn't muffled by the leaves. While our guide was talking, I kept hearing a bird calling over the ridge, but of course, it stopped as soon as I asked if anyone could identify it.
But we did get a great treat a few minutes later, when a call came ringing over the snow from the edge of the forest. It was almost like a laughing sound, and as a matter of fact, some humans laughed on the other side of the gardens just after the bird had finished calling. They sounded like they were echoing the bird's call. I had heard the call before, but couldn't quite place it. From the volume and distance, we figured it was a pretty good sized bird, not a chickadee or nuthatch-sized. “I think that might be a woodpecker of some sort.”, I suggested. Finally, one of our group spotted something up in one of the tallest trees on the forest edge. With the small binoculars our guide had in his pouch, we took a look. Red head, definitely woodpecker-shaped. It was a pileated woodpecker!
So despite the winter, I recommend the Arboretum walks, whether you go on the longer adult walks or the shorter family walks. I have never failed to learn something, and it's just nice to be outside in the woods with a few like-minded souls.
* Our guide said that the two weather conditions that will cancel the walks are lightening, and temperatures significantly below zero plus wind. He said that earlier this year he took a walk with two brave souls when the temperature was around 40 degrees, and there was horizontal, pouring rain. He said they had a great time just watching things blowing around out on Curtis Prairie.
The last walk I went on was a couple two Sundays ago, and it was sunny with calm winds, so despite the temperature in the 20s, it was quite enjoyable to be outside. These walks give me a reason to get my butt out of the house on a wintery Sunday, when it is far too easy to hang around indoors all day. If there is snow, I'm eager to XC ski or snowshoe, but when there's no fresh snow, it's nice to have someone willing to lead a walk.
The topics of these walks vary quite a bit. Some that I have attended were focused on glacial features, prairie plants, spring ephemerals, Indian mounds, fungi and mushrooms, fall prairie plants, and wetland environments. Some of the naturalists are experts on birds, others on plants, and others on insects, but all have a wide variety of interests and knowledge, and they try to answer questions as best they can. The people going along on the hikes often can answer the questions as well, since these hikes tend to attract people generally interested in the natural environment.
The most recent hike was much less focused on a particular topic, and we went only a short distance to Longnecker Gardens to generally check out winter conditions. We looked at some animal tracks, talked about the birds and animals that can be seen in winter, and kept an eye out for anything else that happened or came by. Winter is a great time to get to know trees by their shape, since most are bare of leaves and it is very easy to see the branch structure. Unless you are used to looking at trees, you tend to think of evergreens as conical, and other trees as having a straight, thick trunk branches splitting off and getting smaller as you go up. We sort of think of a tree as being a stick with a fluffy crown of leaves. That's how kids draw trees, right?
But from across an open area like Longnecker Woods, and without the leaves, you can see the structure of the trees, and see how some are tall and skinny, others a more chaotic jumble of branch sizes, and still others having multiple trunks coming from the ground.
You can also see the birds and animals in the trees much more easily. Red tail hawks are very common in the Arb, and they love to hunt the snowy areas with only scattered trees. Twice we say a hawk swoop down from a tall tree along the edge of the gardens, but we didn't see wither one catch anything. It also seems to be easier to hear the bird calls, since there is less ambient noise in winter, and the sound isn't muffled by the leaves. While our guide was talking, I kept hearing a bird calling over the ridge, but of course, it stopped as soon as I asked if anyone could identify it.
But we did get a great treat a few minutes later, when a call came ringing over the snow from the edge of the forest. It was almost like a laughing sound, and as a matter of fact, some humans laughed on the other side of the gardens just after the bird had finished calling. They sounded like they were echoing the bird's call. I had heard the call before, but couldn't quite place it. From the volume and distance, we figured it was a pretty good sized bird, not a chickadee or nuthatch-sized. “I think that might be a woodpecker of some sort.”, I suggested. Finally, one of our group spotted something up in one of the tallest trees on the forest edge. With the small binoculars our guide had in his pouch, we took a look. Red head, definitely woodpecker-shaped. It was a pileated woodpecker!
So despite the winter, I recommend the Arboretum walks, whether you go on the longer adult walks or the shorter family walks. I have never failed to learn something, and it's just nice to be outside in the woods with a few like-minded souls.
* Our guide said that the two weather conditions that will cancel the walks are lightening, and temperatures significantly below zero plus wind. He said that earlier this year he took a walk with two brave souls when the temperature was around 40 degrees, and there was horizontal, pouring rain. He said they had a great time just watching things blowing around out on Curtis Prairie.
Monday, August 23, 2010
It's the most dangerous time of the year....
As I ride around town every August, I have that holiday song, "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year" going through my head, but with new words, as noted in the title of this post.
The highest crash rate for bicyclists in Madison is late August and the month of September. This is due in part to all the new bicyclists showing up each year. Many undergraduates have heard that the best way to get around town is by bike. "Don't bring your car!" is written in very large letter - three times - in the materials on transportation given to all new students coming to the UW.
The problem is that many 18 year-olds, and even older bicyclists that are riding around Madison for the first time, haven't learned to do it right. American teenagers often give up riding a bike when they are about 13 - about the age when they can really start to understand how to negotiate traffic safely. It's not cool to ride a bike around town when you are in high school, and you start to have friends with a drivers license. So the Freshmen coming to Madison haven't been on a bike, except maybe on a trail or in a group, since they were truly kids.
And there are also many people moving to Madison that aren't used to a real city. Although Madison is still considered only a mid-sized city in population, our downtown and campus area operates much more like a bigger city because of density, urban design, and traffic congestion. So even if the new bicyclists are used to riding in the street, they may not know how to ride in urban traffic.
These two factors - no adult experience on a bike and no experience in urban riding - cause new Madison bicyclists to make all sorts of mistakes: riding the wrong way, riding without lights, riding on the sidewalk, riding unpredictably, turning without looking for cars or signaling, etc. After awhile, they either learn to ride correctly (more or less) or they give up on biking in Madison. The crash rate goes down either way.
But there is another factor that may contribute to the crash rate. And it certainly makes biking harder and more stressful for those of us used to Madison's patterns: There are a whole bunch of new drivers in town.
Parents are dropping off the kids at the dorms, trying to find a parking spot or just generally lost. Late summer tourists looking for the Farmers Market or Monona Terrace are confused by the one-way streets and inner and outer loops of the Capitol. New faculty, graduate students, or staff trying to find their way around their new home. And then those new students: young, excited to be on their own, impulsive, and completely clueless that driving is sort of a pain in the ass in Madison. None of these groups are used to the many bicyclists, pedestrians, moped drivers, buses, and general confusion and congestion of our downtown and campus.
We veterans of the Isthmus know that W. Dayton ends at both Camp Randall and the Overture Center, that you can't drive a private car on State St, that there is both a King St and Martin Luther King, Jr. Blvd, that the diagonal streets to the Square are one way, that bicyclists are likely to be sneaking up on the right side where there is a bike lane and riding on the sidewalk everywhere, and when traveling west on E Johnson from First St, the name of the street changes to Gorham -> University Ave -> Campus Dr -> University Ave.
We also know that there is construction everywhere, and the Isthmus makes both driving and parking a dicey and slow process.
But many of the newbies and visitors don't know any of these things, and they are lost, confused, stressed out and distracted by all the activity. That makes for lots of mistakes on their part, and a dangerous situation for those of us using less protected modes of travel.
To the veteran bicyclists and walkers, I urge patience and caution. You can tell when a driver is not a local. There's car "body language" as surely as there is human body language. Be especially careful when someone is going slow, drifting about in their lane, or the car is filled with furniture and luggage. These people are about to make a sudden turn without signaling or turn the wrong way on a one-way street. Try to wave with all your fingers and smile instead of yelling.
The visitors are probably not going to see this post, but in case it gets passed along to new residents, my advice is to park the car as soon as you can and walk. Really, it's faster than looking for a parking spot. Please remember that you must yield to pedestrian in the crosswalk, and bicyclists both have a right to the road and also are likely going as fast as you are in traffic. No matter where you lived before, Madison has a different traffic rhythm, and a different mix of road users. It's slow going in the car, and it's sort of confusing as well. Did I mention that walking might be easier?
The highest crash rate for bicyclists in Madison is late August and the month of September. This is due in part to all the new bicyclists showing up each year. Many undergraduates have heard that the best way to get around town is by bike. "Don't bring your car!" is written in very large letter - three times - in the materials on transportation given to all new students coming to the UW.
The problem is that many 18 year-olds, and even older bicyclists that are riding around Madison for the first time, haven't learned to do it right. American teenagers often give up riding a bike when they are about 13 - about the age when they can really start to understand how to negotiate traffic safely. It's not cool to ride a bike around town when you are in high school, and you start to have friends with a drivers license. So the Freshmen coming to Madison haven't been on a bike, except maybe on a trail or in a group, since they were truly kids.
And there are also many people moving to Madison that aren't used to a real city. Although Madison is still considered only a mid-sized city in population, our downtown and campus area operates much more like a bigger city because of density, urban design, and traffic congestion. So even if the new bicyclists are used to riding in the street, they may not know how to ride in urban traffic.
These two factors - no adult experience on a bike and no experience in urban riding - cause new Madison bicyclists to make all sorts of mistakes: riding the wrong way, riding without lights, riding on the sidewalk, riding unpredictably, turning without looking for cars or signaling, etc. After awhile, they either learn to ride correctly (more or less) or they give up on biking in Madison. The crash rate goes down either way.
But there is another factor that may contribute to the crash rate. And it certainly makes biking harder and more stressful for those of us used to Madison's patterns: There are a whole bunch of new drivers in town.
Parents are dropping off the kids at the dorms, trying to find a parking spot or just generally lost. Late summer tourists looking for the Farmers Market or Monona Terrace are confused by the one-way streets and inner and outer loops of the Capitol. New faculty, graduate students, or staff trying to find their way around their new home. And then those new students: young, excited to be on their own, impulsive, and completely clueless that driving is sort of a pain in the ass in Madison. None of these groups are used to the many bicyclists, pedestrians, moped drivers, buses, and general confusion and congestion of our downtown and campus.
We veterans of the Isthmus know that W. Dayton ends at both Camp Randall and the Overture Center, that you can't drive a private car on State St, that there is both a King St and Martin Luther King, Jr. Blvd, that the diagonal streets to the Square are one way, that bicyclists are likely to be sneaking up on the right side where there is a bike lane and riding on the sidewalk everywhere, and when traveling west on E Johnson from First St, the name of the street changes to Gorham -> University Ave -> Campus Dr -> University Ave.
We also know that there is construction everywhere, and the Isthmus makes both driving and parking a dicey and slow process.
But many of the newbies and visitors don't know any of these things, and they are lost, confused, stressed out and distracted by all the activity. That makes for lots of mistakes on their part, and a dangerous situation for those of us using less protected modes of travel.
To the veteran bicyclists and walkers, I urge patience and caution. You can tell when a driver is not a local. There's car "body language" as surely as there is human body language. Be especially careful when someone is going slow, drifting about in their lane, or the car is filled with furniture and luggage. These people are about to make a sudden turn without signaling or turn the wrong way on a one-way street. Try to wave with all your fingers and smile instead of yelling.
The visitors are probably not going to see this post, but in case it gets passed along to new residents, my advice is to park the car as soon as you can and walk. Really, it's faster than looking for a parking spot. Please remember that you must yield to pedestrian in the crosswalk, and bicyclists both have a right to the road and also are likely going as fast as you are in traffic. No matter where you lived before, Madison has a different traffic rhythm, and a different mix of road users. It's slow going in the car, and it's sort of confusing as well. Did I mention that walking might be easier?
Friday, July 23, 2010
Free food on Fridays - delivered by bike
I think I heard about this, and then forgot until today. There I was, enjoying a little lunch from the food kiosks, and here comes a woman on a bike, with a long bed trailer and eight 18-gallon plastic totes full of fresh produce.
Within a couple of minutes, more people come by with more veggies, a table and banner.
I had just stopped to take a few photos of how much stuff can be carried by bike, and asked what was up. "Oh, we give away produce every Friday."
I grabbed some great big bulbs of garlic, since mine's not ready yet. And fennel, which in now making my backpack smell like anise.
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